The 4 friends

It's almost been a week since I found out that my pleural effusion is caused by a CSF leak.  To say that I've been overwhelmed with the information is probably a huge understatement.  Part of me is validated that finally I have proof that what I've been suggesting to my doctors for years is actually happening.  Part of me is relieved that the effusion isn't the result of some rare form of cancer.  But I'm not sure what this means for my life and I'm not sure how or even if they'll treat it.  I know that my dural ectasia complicates things significantly.  I have an appointment on October 27th with a neurosurgeon and until that time I'm resting and trying to process and cope.  So since I'm resting I've had lots of time to think.  

One of the things that has been on my mind a lot in the last few weeks is the story from Mark 2  where the 4 men carry their paralyzed friend to Jesus.  One day I was overwhelmed with anxiety as we were waiting for the results to the latest round of tests. I felt weepy and I called my friend and told her I needed prayer.  I shared all of my worries with her and she prayed for me right then.  She also said that she was with a few of our other friends and could ask them to pray too.  That was when I first started thinking about the 4 friends.  I know prayer is the quickest cure to anxiety.  But sometimes my anxiety is so high that I can't seem to think clearly, let alone pray.  After I hung up I felt my heart rate slow back to normal and the anxious fluttering in my stomach subside.  I needed my friends to carry me to Jesus because at that time I wasn't able to get there on my own.  

The other reason that this has been on my mind is because I'm not really that good at letting my friends carry me.  I want to be the strong one.  I want my friends to be wowed by how faith-filled I am in the face of hard circumstances.  I want to be the comforter, not the comforted.  I want to be the one reminding someone of truths from scripture, not the one being reminded.  Truth is, I hate being needy.  But right now, I do need my circle.  I was imagining what it would have been like if I was the guy in scripture.  I can see myself saying "seriously you guys, I can get to Jesus on my own.  You don't need to carry me."  And then what?  Try to drag myself there even though I actually can't make it alone?  Or I can imagine telling them not to mess up the roof to the house because I didn't want to be that much trouble.  As I imagine these things I think of how life would have been different for those 4 friends if they hadn't been allowed to carry their friend to Jesus.  Those 4 men got to witness a miracle firsthand.  They got to be commended by the Son of God for their great faith.  They got to be a part of something huge, something eternal.  

Maybe these things come to my mind because it makes me feel better to hope that my friends are getting something out of helping me.  Maybe it's still the result of my pride that just won't allow me to accept help unless I see it doing something good for someone else.  But I know that something big happens when we carry our friends to Jesus.  Something bigger than any of us can do on our own.  I know that hearts are bonded when we walk through trials with a friend.  I know that relationships are deepened when I strip away my defenses enough to admit my needs.  

God designed us for relationship and some of us (ahem--you know who you are because I know I'm not the only one) like to think that we're ok on our own; that we do fine doing life and faith and relationships on our own terms.  For whatever reason, God won't let me stay in that place of solitude and independence.   

So if you're helping someone out, or offering to help out and your friend seems irritated, just know that it's not you.  It's just your friend having some rough edges ground off and sometimes that doesn't feel so good.   Thanks for the help.

Giving it to God, part 4

This is part 4 of a 4 part series.  To read part 1, click here.  To read part 2, click here.  To read part 3, click here. 

Around the same time that I was learning to focus on my blessings instead of the negatives, I also found a new neurologist who specialized in headaches.  He was able to see that I was having 3 different kinds of headaches and found a medication that actually gave me headache free days instead of headache free hours.  It has fewer side effects too.  All in all I was feeling better, exercising regularly, things were looking up.  Best of all my anger at God was gone and I was again growing in relationship with him.  I had a few months of things going really well.  My echo-cardiogram was good so my cardiologist said we could skip my yearly MRI, we went on vacation and got to see family, and I went to my first National Marfan Foundation Conference.   After hearing again the risks and the necessity for monitoring at the conference, I called my cardiologist and requested that we do the MRI.  My headaches also started ramping up again and I noticed that my endurance as I exercised wasn't as good as it had been a few months before.  I thought that the many hours in the car had been too much and I just needed some recovery time.  

I was so anxious as my MRI came closer.  I normally have some anxiety, but they are routine so I don't know why it seemed worse this time.  As they did the test I knew they had found something because they took more time than usual and injected the contrast an extra time.  The results did show a pleural effusion and the radiologist wondered if one of the cysts from my Dural Ectasia had formed a fistula with the pleural space and that's what was contributing to the fluid around the lung.   At this point, it's all speculation based on impressions from the MRI.  I'm not happy that another health challenge has cropped up.  I have referrals to 3 specialists and I'm not looking forward to another season of doctor visits and tests.  I sent an email to family to ask for prayer and I've obviously been praying a lot about it myself.  At first I was filled with anxiety and my anxiety was causing me to not listen very well to God.  I couldn't hear his assurances that he was taking care of me.  Instead I was frustrated and trying desperately not to get angry again.  I was overwhelmed with the thought of a season of poor health; it was made worse by the memory of how far from God I felt when I was so angry.  

I received a text message from my brother after asking for prayer telling me that God had revealed to him that I haven't given my health issues to God, that I still try to control things.  And you know what?  It's true.  That was from God.  I see it in my anxiety. I see it in my need to do everything I can to take care of my body.  I see it in my diet.  I see it in my exercise plan.  None of those things are bad, but it's the heart behind it.  It's the desire to control and do everything right so that things will go well. With that comes frustration when things don't go well because I have done everything right!  God had said the same thing to me earlier in the week--that I needed to just relinquish all of it to him.  I obviously hadn't listened since he told my brother.  The thing is, I love how God works.  If anyone else had said it to me it probably would have made me mad.  But when my brother told me--because of who he is in Christ, because of his humility and his love for me--I wasn't angry I just instantly thought, "Ah, he's right."   I love that God knows our relationship so well that he knew who I would receive the message from.  

So now, here is my dilemma.  I want to surrender this completely to God.  But I don't know how.  I don't know how you balance surrender with appropriate concern and responsibility.  It wouldn't honor God if I just stopped getting medical care, stopped taking care of myself.  I need to use my discernment to know when an issue needs follow up and when I can let it go.  But I want to let it stop with that rather than going beyond that to taking control and responsibility on my own.  I am praying and I know that God will show me how to give this to him, even if I have to do it daily for a while.  

Giving it to God, part 2

This is part 2 in a 4 part series.  To read Part 1, click here.

Owning my health didn't just lead me to make responsible choices, it led to major struggles with control and frustration because I never could own enough of it to fix it.  Something had to change.  

You can imagine my frustration about 4 or 5 years ago when suddenly a whole new world of challenges began. I started having severe, excruciating headaches.   As a child in 2nd grade I had been sick for 2 months with headaches that were so bad that I couldn't get out of bed.  I was ok if I was lying down, as soon as I stood up the headache came back.  They never were able to determine a cause and eventually it resolved.  Except for migraines it was a onetime occurrence.  After a solid week of constant headache, I went to the doctor.  After a few weeks with no relief they referred me to an ENT (Ear, Nose and Throat specialist) who couldn't find anything wrong.  After more time with no relief, I was referred to a neurologist.  An MRI showed Chiari Malformation so they sent me to a neurosurgeon who did more MRI's and found that my dural ectasia was severe so they couldn't treat the chiari malformation surgically.  I left with an answer of "we really have no idea what to do for you.  Just go live your life."  The neurologist tried medications which offered some relief and lots of side effects, but at least I could function.  I switched to UCSD and still the neurology department didn't really know what to do with me.  I researched on my own, I changed my diet, I adjusted my activity level, and some of it provided some relief, but nothing healed me.  

In the midst of all of this I cried out to God over and over.   I asked everyone close to me to pray.  I asked God to show me if there was some sin in my life that was causing this.  I wanted to make myself right, I wanted to fix this.  If I was blocking God's healing in my life I wanted to know and take care of it.  I confessed my lack of faith; I confessed that I knew God could heal me I just wasn't sure that he wanted to. Time went on and pain became my constant companion.   I argued with God, I was working at a church and homeschooling my kids--both things I felt God had called me to do--so how could I really be effective for him if I hurt all the time.  How could my life be a testimony if I was frustrated and exhausted and needed to lie down?  I could do so much more if he would just make me well!  I had a plan!  Why wasn't he getting on with it?

One day, as I was driving to work I was listening to tobyMac's song Made to Love You and singing along at the top of my lungs because it was one of my favorite songs.  I got to the part where it says "anything, I would give up for you, everything, I give it all away" and as I sang it, I heard a voice say very clearly "even your health?"  I was alone in my car and it wasn't an audible voice but it was loud and clear and it was a voice I knew to be God's.  Shaken, I pulled my car over to the side of the road and just sat there.   God asked me again, "Even your health?  Would you give up your health for me?"  I was stunned.  I knew God wasn't literally saying he was going to make me sick.  I want to be clear on that, I don't believe that God caused my health issues.  But I knew that God was asking me to give up the idol that I had made of my health.  My health was on this high pedestal, it was the unattainable that I was willing to change everything to achieve.  I could readily give up money, fashion, a house, but God knew that my idol was being healthy and he knew that spiritually, that wasn't good for me.  I was able to justify this idol by saying that I was being a good steward.  God said that my body was a temple of the Holy Spirit, so it was honoring God to want to make my temple the best it could be.  He was inviting me to come back to Him and Him alone, forsaking all my idols.  Could I do that for him?  Could I accept whatever came my way with my health and still honor and glorify God with my life?  Could I be sick well?  Could I live without grumbling and complaining?  Could I be joy-filled and pain-filled at the same time?  It was an invitation I wanted to accept.  It was the invitation to come closer to my savior and allow him to be enough, even as my body broke down.  But I knew it wouldn't be easy.